regret
by AGENT Kuma-chan
Summary: Kirishima remembered Tamaki's profile as he forced them to go, Fatgum's back as he defended him. They were absolutely manly during the raid. And he had been nothing at all.


**Title: **regrets

**A/N:** For amaranthinecanicular, for the bnha SS! I really love the idea of Bakugou and Kirishima comforting each other post the overhaul and kidnapping arcs—I think there's a lot of lovely parallels between the levels of guilt, helplessness, and regret they must feel after what they'd been through. Hope you enjoy!

**Summary:** _Kirishima remembered Tamaki's profile as he forced them to go, Fatgum's back as he defended him. They were absolutely manly during the raid. And he had been nothing at all._

…

…

…

…

Kirishima pressed his fingers against the bandages on his arm, the sheer white marred with splotches of dried blood. His skin felt raw in places, aching and bruised from his opponent's bullet-like punches. And this was with being knocked out for most of a fight.

The door to his room opened and a middle-aged doctor slipped in. His chart was tucked under an arm and the other one carefully closed the door behind her. She smiled at him kindly as she approached his bed, her eyes crinkling from behind her square glasses. "Hi, I'm Dr. Watanabe. How are you feeling?"

"Great," Kirishima lied, scrambling to sit up on his hospital bed. There were more important issues than his pride or aching body. "How's Fatgum and Suneater? Are they okay?"

"Hmm?" She scrutinized him for a long moment and crossed her arms. "Well…how about this, you tell me how you actually feel and I'll tell you about them. Deal?"

"Uh…right…" He smiled sheepishly. Maybe he should have expected that. He was in a hospital after all. There was no way he was feeling great. "My arms hurt."

"To be expected. You had a lot of damage to them." Flipping through his chart, she clicked her tongue and set it aside. Holding out a hand, she gestured at his arms. "May I?"

"Huh?" He blinked, not comprehending at first. "Oh—yeah, yeah, of course."

"Great." Dr. Watanabe prodded his arms, her fingertips glowing slightly. "My quirk makes it a bit easier to find any internal injuries—which fortunately for you, is just a broken bone." She pressed her fingers against the bandages, examining the length of his arm, before letting go. Satisfied, she picked up the chart and started making notes. "We can release you today, even, but you'll have to go easy on your hero work until your arms have recovered. It should take about a week."

"A week." Kirishima winced. Well, there was no way he could train or help with patrol then. "How's—"

"Right, your companions. A deal is a deal." She smiled sadly. "Well, to start off with, Fatgum and Suneater are in the same state you are. Mostly just exhausted, a few bruises, but nothing so serious as to detain them."

"That's great!" Kirishima sighed with relief, the tension in his shoulders disappearing. His team was safe. His friends were safe. His—

The doctor's expression hadn't changed.

Kirishima stared at that sad smile and swallowed. There was something else, something worse, that hadn't been said. "We saved Eri, right?"

"Yes. But…" She clutched her chart tightly. "There is no easy way to say this, I'm afraid. The young girl is fine, as are most of your companions in the raid. Unfortunately, Lemillion lost his quirk and Sir Nighteye…Sir Nighteye passed away."

Death. Actual _death_.

This wasn't like saving Bakugou, where All Might won but had to retire. This wasn't like when they were attacked at the training camp, where Ragdoll disappeared and came back quirkless.

Sir Nighteye was dead.

There was no coming back from that.

-x-

Kirshima winced as he opened the doors to the training ground. His right arm still hurt a bit, not entirely recovered from the broken arm and bruised wrists. He'd just have to bear it. It was a manly thing to do and he needed to feel manly now.

He needed to feel himself.

"DIE!" Bakugou shouted at the top of his lungs.

Kirishima couldn't help smiling as he looked up. Bakugou only had two levels of intensity—intense and super intense. And it seemed that months of frustration from not getting his license had kept him at super intense. Bakugou stood on a ledge on a large stone slab, carving his name on another slab. Explosive fire shot out of his hands and he laughed manically.

"Good job!" Kirishima yelled, pumping his fists.

"Huh?" Bakugou stopped, turning toward him. He stared at him for a long moment, then snorted and went back to his training. "About time you showed up, you dick head."

It was hard to make out, but Kirishima was certain Bakugou's ears were red. It was good to see some things never changed. Snickering, he read between the lines and explained himself. "Had to wait for Recovery Girl to let me come back. I couldn't really train with a broken arm." He punched in front of him, quick jabs that cut through the air. "But I'm all better now!"

Bakugou grunted. "Good." He inspected his gauntlets, fiddling with the gauge. "What happened?"

"A mission." Kirishima paused, not sure how much he was allowed to say now. Or what to say. They'd won. Kinda. They'd lost people but saved the girl and stopped the bad guys and…he didn't know how to explain it all, to put into the words what he'd experienced in that cavern. What he still felt now, thinking about that final blow, about Fatgum's back as he defended him, of Tamaki's profile as he forced them to leave.

It was very different than their internships before.

"We did it!" Kirishima finally said, forcing a smile. That's how he'd do it before, right? That's the level of enthusiasm he'd give, the right amount of smile and gusto. "We beat down the bad guys!"

"Of course you did." Bakugou snorted derisively, giving him a look. "It's you."

Kirishima blinked at the surprisingly honest compliment. There was such confidence in his tone, it left no room for arguments.

Of course he'd succeed.

Of course he'd win.

But he hadn't, he hadn't, and he just nodded. "R-right. Anyways, time to train!" He smashed his fists together, trying not to flinch as a jolt of pain ran up his arm. "Can't get too rusty!"

-x-

"Hey, kiddo!" Fatgum waved at him from down the street. Once more, he was fat again, his body a giant cushion for damage. "You're up and about now!"

"Yeah!" Kirishima jogged up to him. "You're okay?"

"Yeah." Fatgum guffawed, patting his belly. "Just lost a lot of weight, that's all."

Kirishima stared, not sure if he meant now or before. Fatgum looked as round as he usually did but then again, Kirishima had never measured it before.

"Still, my wallet took a hit." With a sigh, Fatgum opened his empty wallet. His shoulders slumped slightly. "I had to eat so much to get back in shape. And payday's so far away."

"Right." Kirishima nodded, getting it now. "Are you on patrol? When should I come back?" He glanced around, realizing that Fatgum was alone for once. "Where's Tamaki-senpai?"

"Woah, hold on with questions." Fatgum chuckled. "I'm on patrol but you don't have to come back to the agency right now. You did good, kid." He ruffled Kirishima's hair. "Rest up a bit and then I'll call you."

"But I can help now—"

"No," Fatgum repeated firmly, crossing his arms. "We just took down a major organization! And you helped me defeat a big villain. Take a break, you've earned it."

Had he? Kirishima wasn't so sure. What'd he done that was so helpful?

"I told Tamaki the same thing—he's at the hospital now, checking his friend." Fatgum frowned, his expression turning sad. "Poor kid. He's going to need his friends now, more than ever."

Kirishima had heard of what happened, in bits and pieces. Of Deku's gambit, of Mirio's stubborn determination. Of Sir's last stand.

Manly. That was the only way to describe any of it.

-x-

Kirishima growled as he activated his quirk, his skin hardening into jagged plates. His forearms still hurt from where they were punched through, but that was a phantom pain, nothing more. Taking a deep breath, he forced his quirk to activate further, hardening until each part of him was like stone. His eyes cracked slightly at the strain and he gritted his teeth.

He had to become harder. So hard nothing could penetrate him. So hard that he couldn't get knocked out again. Harder and longer and maybe next time he could tell Fatgum, _You go on ahead._

Adjusting his stance, Kirishima started punching a boulder. Over and over, he had to break through it. Hardened scales broke off his fingers and he forced his new skin to harden and take their place. Faster, faster, so fast that next time his defense broke, it would return immediately.

"Kirishima."

His shoulders strained at the effort, his arms burned. Kirishima could feel his quirk starting to relax and he forced it to keep activating. Short, quick bursts. What was the limit he could push to? He had to go beyond it.

"Kirishima." A hand grabbed his fist and Kirishima blinked in surprise. Turning his head, he found a scowling Bakugou. Bakugou growled, "Turn off your quirk."

"I'm training!" Kirishima replied, pasting a smile on his face. "Just a little longer."

"It's been hours, you dolt." Bakugou gestured behind him, at the open door to the training room. Just outside, Kirishima could see a night sky and wow, time really had passed. "Turn. Off. Your. Quirk."

As Bakugou glared at him, Kirishima swallowed. Now that he realized how much time had passed, he could feel just how sore his limbs were. How bloody his hands. Maybe he should take a break. Smiling sheepishly, he nodded. "Y-yeah. I'll do that."

His skin smoothened over, bruising in places. Hopefully he hadn't reinjured anything—he didn't want Recovery Girl to give him the stink eye. He'd seen it often enough directed at Deku.

"Good." Bakugou still didn't let go of his hand, his frown growing deeper as he studied his bloody knuckles.

"I didn't realize—" It was as though a switch had gone off his entire body and his legs buckled. Collapsing, he yelped, "Woah!"

Fortunately, Bakugou's reflexes were quick and he quickly caught Kirishima. Wrapping an arm around Kirishima's waist, he grunted as he forced him to a standing position. "Can't even keep track of yourself?"

"Sorry!" Kirishima winced. He couldn't put any weight on his legs and he leaned heavily on Bakugou, slinging an arm around him. Shit. He hadn't meant to wear himself out this much. "This isn't really manly."

"No shit," Bakugou bit out, pulling Kirishima closer. Slowly, he started walking to the door. "What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I…" Kirishima lowered his eyes. "I wasn't thinking."

"I know that." Bakugou took a deep breath. He held it for a long time before slowly exhaling. A calming technique, Kirishima remembered watching as Bakugou grumpily forced himself to learn it. "What is it?"

"What is what?" Kirishima asked, confused.

"This. Why are you doing this?" Bakugou growled, not liking to repeat himself. Before Kirishima could answer, he added, "Don't make me force it out."

Kirishima glanced at him but they were outside the training grounds now. The path to the dorms was lit by pools of light, each casting multiple shadows on Bakugou. All he could make out was the usual furrowed brow, the set jaw.

He was serious, most like.

And maybe it would be good to let it out. He wouldn't judge, he never did, and maybe that was what Kirishima liked most about Bakugou. There was never pity or cheap gratitude, just unflinching honesty.

"The mission…I didn't help." Kirishima closed his eyes, remembering his worry as he ran from Tamaki. His fear as he crashed into the wall, Fatgum shielding him from further damage. "No—I couldn't help."

He hadn't been strong enough. Nothing had changed, not really, from that day he'd realized he was a coward. What was strength without the courage to wield it? It wasn't manly to leave Tamaki behind, alone to take down three criminals. It wasn't manly to let Fatgum shield him.

"I wasn't strong enough to help. And…people got hurt."

Bakugou didn't say anything, just slowly plodding forward. There was a long space of silence. Had his opinion of him gone down? Kirishima hoped not. He couldn't take that. Finally, Bakugou said, his voice unusually soft. "You tried, right? Gave it your all?"

"Y-yeah." Kirishima nodded.

"Then…" Bakugou paused and Kirishima could feel his body twitch as he forced himself to continue. "You just have to take this feeling and try harder next time. So you don't feel it again." Bakugou's skin was warm, warmer than usual, and Kirishima could just make out flush on his neck. "That's what you told me. After All Might…after what happened."

"I…" Kirishima trailed off, realizing what he meant. All Might had lost his powers saving Bakugou.

And it had crushed him. But it hadn't been his fault. It hadn't been his fault and this was Kirishima's fault.

All this meant that Kirishima had to accept what happened and make sure it never happened again. Crimson Riot had said that too, hadn't he? That he had regrets and refused to have anymore of them.

It was the manly thing to do.

It was Red Riot's thing to do.

Kirishima grinned. "Yeah."

"Great." Bakugou coughed and forced his pace faster. "Never repeat this to anyone," he warned, his usual temper flaring through again. "Got it?"

"Yep." Kirishima chuckled. Stretching his neck, he leaned over and kissed Bakugou's cheek. "Thanks."

Bakugou's skin burst into flames. It was worth it, even as Bakugou dropped him.


End file.
